


Little Misunderstanding

by PJTL156



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 10:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJTL156/pseuds/PJTL156
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Germany gets some courage and asks Italy to see a movie. He agrees. Italy makes pasta as usual before their date, but this time he slops tomato sauce on his shirt. The problem is, it doesn't look like pasta sauce. A little misunderstanding gets bigger. GerIta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Hetalia.

"Hello?" Italy says as he answers his phone. Flour and dough sticks to it instantly, but he doesn't mind.

" _Hallo, Italy. It's Germany. I was wondering if you wanted to see a movie, or something. Uh, if not, that's fine."_ The brunette couldn't help but tinge slightly at the shy offer.

"Sure, I'd love to!"

" _Really?"_

"Of course! What time?"

_"Well, it starts in three hours, so can I pick you up in two? It will give us plenty of time to get there."_

"Sounds great. See you then."

" _Okay, gut. See you in two hours."_ With that Germany hangs up. Italy listens to the complete silence through the receiver for a few seconds to make sure he is gone. He doesn't want him to hear his excited outburst.

"Yay!" Italy screams as he puts the phone in its proper location. A smile spreads on his face and he leaves it there. Right before Germany had called he had been working on lunch; pasta, of course. He was just getting to his favorite [step](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7681293/1/Little_Misunderstanding), besides eating it, obviously. That step was kneading. Being an artistic country he enjoyed molding the mixture like clay. It reminded him of his childhood with Grandpa Rome.

Warm hands knead the dough like the pro he is. After it looks perfect he rolls it out and cuts it into strips. Next he puts it into the boiling pot and waits. He wipes his hands and smiles at his work. With a few minutes to spare he decides to work on the sauce. Today he is in the mood for a simple tomato one. The red spheres were already diced and cooking on another burner, so all he had to do was add some spices. Being a natural cook he doesn't measure anything. Somehow his [culinary](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7681293/1/Little_Misunderstanding) instincts are flawless, even if none of his other traits are.

In no time both the noodles and sauce are done. He dishes himself a plate and sits down to eat. Italy had been so engulfed in food preparation he hadn't had time to think about Germany's offer.  _A movie, huh? That sounds nice. I don't think he's ever asked me to see one with him before. That one time I found him watching one by himself in his room, but he just yelled and shooed me out. I just wanted to spend time with him. Oh, well. It didn't seem that good anyway. Too many weird noises and grunts._

Italy puts a forkful of tomato drenched pasta in his mouth, not realizing a big portion of it drips onto his tank top. It starts to soak in. He takes another bite, completely oblivious.  _I didn't even ask him what the movie was about. I hope it's not like that weird one. Maybe it'll be a comedy. Germany needs to loosen up._

XXOXX

 _Should I ask him? Nein, he'll probably just say no. He doesn't want to be with me. I should just go back to work und forget about it._  As much as his mind tells him this, his heart has a different story.  _Well, I could ask him. No harm in that._

A weary Germany picks up the phone by his desk and dials the memorized number. In a few rings a cheery voice answers.

" _Hello?"_  Germany pauses for a second.  _Gott. Here goes nothing._

"Hallo, Italy. It's Germany. I was wondering if you wanted to see a movie, or something. Uh, if not, that's fine."  _Verdammt! That sounded so lame und desperate. Dummkopf!_

" _Sure, I'd love to!"_  The German thought he heard wrong.

"Really?"

" _Of course! What time?"_

"Well, it starts in three hours, so can I pick you up in two? It will give us plenty of time to get there."

" _Sounds great. See you then."_

"Okay, gut. See you in two hours." He quickly puts the phone down, but keeps staring at it. Confusion, shock, and other emotions come to the cracking surface. One of them is something he doesn't feel often. Happiness. A smile creeps up.

"He-he wants to go?"

For once he doesn't know what to do. There's no real manuals on this sort of thing. The only thing that comes close tells him he's already in a romantic relationship, which he's sure he isn't.  _We're just friends. That's all. Nothing more,_  he tries to reassure himself. His blush tells him otherwise, but he chooses to ignore it.  _I have another hour until I have to get ready. Maybe I can finish up this paperwork. Then all I'll have to worry about is mein date._  He blushes harder at his thought.  _Nein, it's not a date. Just two friends going to see a movie._ He doesn't actually believe himself, but he's always been good at compartmentalizing. His mind drifts to something else.

"What should I wear…?"

XXOXX

Italy finishes up his lunch and decides it's a good time to take a nap. He places his dirty dishes in the already full kitchen sink and starts to walk towards his bedroom. A ring can be heard yet again. He turns around and answers it.

"Germany?"

" _Ja, it's me. How did you know?"_

"Lucky guess. What do you need?"

" _Oh, uh… never mind."_

"Ve? What were you going to say?"

" _Um, just that I don't know what to wear. I haven't been to a movie in years."_

"Don't worry about it. Just wear what's comfortable to you."

" _...Danke, Italy."_

"You're welcome." There's silence on the other end. "Germany?"

" _Huh?"_

"Did you want something else?"

" _Oh, nein. I'll let you go."_  
"Okay," Italy says as he turns to see a putrid creature in his kitchen sink. A rat. "Waah! Get away from me, you animal! Please don't hurt me!" He throws the only thing he has handy, which is the phone, and runs away screaming. It misses the rat completely. As he runs out of the kitchen he stubs his toe and yells in pain. Germany hears it.

" _Italy? Italy? Are you okay?"_

The Italian bolts into his bedroom and locks the door. His eyes search the room to make sure nothing else is hiding on him in there. A relieved sigh comes from his lips.

"Phew. That was scary. I hate rats," he says while shivering. "I'd better take a nap before Germany gets here." He lays himself down on the bed and starts to drift away. His unbuttoned dress shirt starts to stick to his tank top, causing tomato sauce to soak to the surface. As the brunette falls asleep he is completely oblivious that his friend is now in panic mode, and that the tomato liquid on his shirt does not look like sauce.

XXOXX

Germany sits at his desk now concerned about his attire.  _Should I wear something special, or just dress normally?_  As much as he doesn't want to call Italy back and look like an idiot, he feels he has no choice.  _I don't want to be over or underdressed. I have to call, even if I look like a total dummkopf._  So, for the second time, Germany picks up his phone.

" _Germany?"_ he hears his friend guess after a few long rings.

"Ja, it's me. How did you know?"

" _Lucky guess. What do you need?" That's a first,_ Germany thinks.

"Oh, uh… never mind." Germany regrets calling.  _Ja, this was stupid. How do I say this?_

" _Ve? What were you going to say?"_

"Um, just that I don't know what to wear. I haven't been to a movie in years."

" _Don't worry about it. Just wear what's comfortable to you."_  The sweet words make him smile again.

"...Danke, Italy."

" _You're welcome."_ He wants to say, "You always know how to make me feel better," but he decides it sounds weird, and he doesn't want to scare Italy away. The blonde doesn't even realize there's an awkward silence while he's thinking.  _"Germany?"_  Italy says breaking into his thoughts.

"Huh?"

" _Did you want something else?"_

"Oh, nein. I'll let you go."  _Great. Now I embarrassed myself again._

" _Okay… Waah! Get away from me, you animal! Please don't hurt me_!" He hears a crashing sound, then a scream of pain. Germany's heart stops.  _What's going on?_

"Italy? Italy? Are you okay?" Dead silence.  _Nein! Nein!_   _Oh, Gott. Italy, please be okay,_  he thinks as he shoots from his chair. He didn't have time to think; just react. He runs out of his office and to his car in a blur. In a few moments he's driving like a madman towards Italy's house. Good thing he's used to driving on autobahns.

XXOXX

Germany reaches Italy's house in record time. He barely shuts off his car before running towards the front door. He takes a deep breath as he brandishes his pistol and turns the handle. It's unlocked.  _What did I tell him about keeping his doors locked?_ As much as he wishes he didn't have to look for his possibly injured friend he knows he has no choice.  _If he's lying in there hurt, or worse, I have to go in._ He doesn't even want to think about the "or worse." Germany tries to shut off his concern and use his training. He walks through the different rooms to no avail. Italy's nowhere to be seen. Germany's concern starts to grow.  _Has he been kidnapped? Where is he?_  As he thinks this he nears Italy's bedroom. The door is shut.

"Italy?" he calls. There's no response. He tries again, but still no answer.  _What if this was all a misunderstanding? What if he's fine und it was just a big misunderstanding?_ Another blush creeps in as he think of another possibility.  _What if he's getting dressed und I walk in while he's naked?_  He shakes his head.  _It doesn't matter. I have to go in._ With that he musters up some more courage and walks in. His pale skin turns as white as porcelain. Italy's lying on his back with a large red spot above his heart.  _Oh, mein Gott. He's bleeding._ Germany quickly inspects the room to make sure there are no intruders, then rushes to Italy. He jumps onto the bed and whips off his over shirt to stop the "bleeding." Buttons fly in every direction, but he doesn't care.

"Italy? Are you alright? Can you hear me?" The German asks in panic. He doesn't realize he's straddling the brunette. "Italy?" He wraps his shirt over Italy's stain and around his back. Germany pulls it tight to stop more "bleeding."

The blonde waits for a response, but still, there is none. His strong hands grip Italy's shoulders in panic and start to shake him. "Italy! Wake up!"  _Bitte._ An alarm finally sounds in Italy's brain. The unwanted convulsion sends him into a confused panic.

"Waah!" he cries. The German stops shaking him. Italy's grateful. His lunch feels like it's going to come up any minute.

"Italy, you're alive!" Germany cheers as he pulls him into a bone crushing hug. Sometimes Germany doesn't understand his own power. The color comes back to his face.

"You-you're hurting me," Italy manages. Yet again Germany's color is gone.

"Sorry. I'm just glad you're okay," Germany admits with a blush while loosening his grip, but not letting go completely.

"It's okay." Germany smiles at Italy, until he realizes the surprisingly clean, white wrapping. "Ah! I almost forgot to check it," he says while undoing his makeshift tourniquet. Italy looks down in panic as his friend rips off his dress shirt. He doesn't realize he's going to dress his fake wound. All he sees is a crazy looking German straddling him on his bed and ripping off his clothes.  _Oh, Dio. I feel like I'm part of one of those magazines he looks at._  With that thought Germany tears Italy's tank and slowly lifts up the left side of it. He's expecting to see a knife or bullet wound, but there's nothing.

"Hm?" Germany says while inspecting the red liquid. He looks at Italy in confusion and gets the same look back. His finger wipes over the sauce, then he puts it in front of his eyes.  _Is this tomato sauce?_  The only way to know is to try it. He puts his finger in his mouth and sucks in the deliciousness. Italy gulps.  _Why is he doing that?_  Their closeness and Germany's actions were making the brunette uncomfortable.

"Tomato sauce?" Germany asks still confused.

"Oh, I must have spilled some on myself during lunch. My bad."

"But, the phone… und you screaming…" Germany says trying to put two and two together.

"That? I saw a rat in my sink, then I threw the phone at it. I ran away, but then I tripped and stubbed my toe."

The blonde stays sitting on his friend while the truth sinks in.

"So, you're not hurt?"

"Nope."

"Oh. Gut," Germany says embarrassed. Without thinking Germany pulls him into another hug, but less forceful than last time. Italy hugs back, and they both smile. For a minute they stay in an embrace. That is until Germany finally realizes their hips are dangerously close, along with other body parts. Dirty fantasies flash into his mind before he has the chance to shoot them away. His face turns into a radish.  _Verdammt. This is sehr embarrassing._

"I-I'm sorry, Italy," he stutters, pulling back. He gets off from Italy and sees a look he doesn't expect. Disappointment.

"It's okay. I don't mind. Thanks."

"For what?"

"For coming to my rescue, of course! Even though I wasn't hurt."

"Oh, that. You're welcome."

"Why? What did you think I was talking about?" Italy asks acting innocent.

"Nothing. Forget it." His face can't turn any more red than it is. Germany stands looking down at Italy, and he looks back.  _It's no use. He won't say it. It doesn't matter. I_ felt _it._  Italy can't help but smile at his friends' reaction when he realized how awkward they looked. Italy had felt Germany's muscles tense up and knew that was when he figured it out. If Italy had found more courage he wouldn't have let him get up, but it didn't happen.  _Neither one of us is ready for that anyway. I'm surprised he's more freaked out now than I was when I woke up with him on top of me._

"Do you still want to go to the movie?" Germany asks timidly. Italy's touched by how small his usually strong German is being.  _He's cute when he's embarrassed._

"Of course." The answer lifts Germany's spirit.

"Okay. How about you get ready." He looks down at his own disheveled appearance. "We'll have to stop by mein place before we go. Gut thing I'm here early."

Italy laughs. "Ve. Alright. I'll change," he says while taking off his shredded clothing.

"Sorry about that," Germany says about the shirts.

"Don't worry about it," he says deciding to do just that.

"I'll wait for you outside."

"Okay," Italy answers while undoing his zipper. Germany turns red yet again and rushes out the door. The brunette has to stifle a laugh.  _He might be strong, but he gets uncomfortable so easily._

In a few minutes Italy joins him outside. The site in front of him takes his breath away for an instant. Germany is leaning against his car with the wind attempting to ruffle his perfect hair. His bare chiseled chest and cargo pants add to the look. The scene makes Italy's heart soar.

"Ve…"

Germany sees his friend approaching and tries not to smile at Italy's expression.  _I think he likes what he sees._  The German isn't as cocky as everyone thinks, and Italy knows that. He does, however, relish at the idea of turning on his little Italian.

"Are you ready?"

"Yep."

The Aryan goes around his car and opens the door for Italy.  _Why's he being such a gentleman?_  Italy thinks as he plops in. Germany walks around the other side and gets in his own seat.

"Are you sure you have everything?" You can never be too sure with Italy's short memory span.

"Uh huh," he says nodding. With that he starts the car and drives back to his place.

Italy waits in the car while Germany gets different clothes on. He plays around with the radio, but can't find anything worth listening to. He shuts it off. Soon enough his pal joins him in the car wearing a black t-shirt and nicely fitting khakis. It's not much different than Italy's blue windbreaker and jeans. Both of which like the others attire; maybe a little too much. Italy liked seeing Germany in something that didn't look military; Germany liked the way Italy's jeans showed his figure.

"We have just enough time to get there und get gut seats."

"Cool."

XXOXX

They arrive at the theatre a few minutes before the movie starts. Everyone seems to stare at them as they enter. Germany feels a blush coming on, but he swallows it down. Italy doesn't even realize they're being watched.

"Hi! Two tickets for… wait, what are we going to watch?" Italy asks while Germany hands the man money.

Germany looks over the possibilities.

"How about that one?" he says pointing to the manliest looking movie he can see. His friend nods and they're handed two tickets. They get some salted popcorn for a snack and head back.

They make small talk through the previews, then the lights go down as the movie starts. Italy almost jumps into Germany's lap as a scary man with a chainsaw comes flashing onto screen. Gladly, he does stay in his own chair.  _Oh, no. I chose a horror movie._   _This is worse than a chick flick._

"It's okay, Italy," Germany whispers while grasping Italy's hand. It seems to calm his nerves until they show the man cutting a victim in half. A piercing scream escapes Italy's lips and Germany feels embarrassed yet again. Some of his fellow German's shoot them a nasty look. He returns it, and they give in like terrified puppies. Sobs come from the quivering mess of a man. The blonde sighs and holds Italy against his chest. Tears soak into his t-shirt. "We can leave if you want."

"No, it's okay." Italy really did want to leave, but his new position was too tempting to give up. That, and he didn't want to look like a  _complete_ coward.

"Alright. If you want to go just tell me und we will."

"'kay."

For the rest of the night a cowering Italy dares glances at the screen only to revert back into strong arms. Germany tries to watch the film, but keeps getting distracted. It's hard to pay attention when the man you deny you have feelings for is holding on to you for dear life. Once the movie is finally finished the lights come back on. Pairs of eyes stare at the odd couple. Germany doesn't even care what the embrace looks like. He has Italy to worry about.  _If they don't like it they can lick mein balls._

"The movie's over."

"Really?"

"Ja. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Italy answers while wiping his nose on his sleeve. "What now?"

"Huh?"

"What are we going to do now? Dinner?" The thought of food made the Italian's face light up.

"Sure. Why not," Germany says with a small smile.

"Ve. Where do you want to go?"

"It doesn't matter to me." They stand up and start to walk out of the theatre.

"Let's get pizza!" The blonde seems intrigued by this.  _For once he doesn't want pasta._

"Alright. I know an Italian restaurant around here. Maybe you can teach them a thing or two." Germany winks. It makes Italy smile. It's not often the Aryan teases around.

"I should!"

They walk into the brisk evening air. It's not quite dark out, but Germany doesn't care. He slips his arm over Italy's shoulders and pulls him close. A smaller arm goes around his waist and makes him tinge pink. Italy does the same. All of the people look at them in wonder, but they don't pay attention. Neither one cares anymore.

"Hey, Germany?"

"Ja?"

"Is this a date?" Germany looks down in discomfort. Italy saves him. "If it is, that's okay. I actually hope it is." The blonde gives him a quizzical look.  _He's telling the truth, isn't he?_

"Ja, this is a date."

"Good," Italy says cheerfully. It sends another happy grin to Germany's face.  _Ja, I'm glad I took the chance._ Italy is too.

"Thanks for agreeing to come with me."

"Thanks for asking me," Italy says truthfully.

Since Italy took a chance he decides it's his again. Germany kisses his dates cheek and Italy turns red. He smiles at the reaction he gets back.

They go into the restaurant to finish up their date. As Germany suggested, Italy gives the chefs tips, which they aren't too grateful about. It makes Germany smile at Italy's obliviousness when the cooks yield rolling pins and knifes while Italy turns his back. Italy walks back over to Germany before they get the chance to do any damage to their intruder.

They take a seat and order their pizza and a bottle of red wine. Germany pours them both a tall glass.

The continue the little conversation they had started in the theatre. Before long Italy even gets a laugh out of his companion, which is rare. He can't help but think that his upbeat, relaxed personality is wearing off on Germany. A little.

For some reason they never run out of things to talk about during their meal. Germany even manages to smile most of the time. They're enjoying each others company more than ever before.

Once they're done eating their hands entertwine on the top of the table. They do it for everyone to see, and they do, but they don't understand it. For hours on end they reminisce and talk about whatever they think of. The pair sits in the resturant until closing time. They walk out hand in hand into the darkness with smiles spread from ear to ear.

"Do you want me to take you home?" Germany asks. He's not sure what response he really wants.

"Yeah, you probably should."

Germany nods in agreement. "Ja, it's for the best."

"Germany, I had fun on our date."

"Wunderbar. Me, too, Italy." He smiles sincerely. Italy matches it, and then some.

Germany steals a passionate kiss on the lips while they stand in the street. A cab honks at them, and Germany flips it off without a glace away from Italy; all the while their tongues search the mouth of the other. Half for thier enjoyment, and half for the cabbies annoyment, he bends Italy down and continues their kiss. Swears can be heard as the cab drives past them. The blonde reluctantly puts his partner back on his feet so they don't disrupt traffic any longer. Italy laughs at their foolishness as they walk to Germany's car hand in hand.  _Oh, what a night this has been,_  Italy thinks. Germany's thinking along the same lines.

Their date might not have been perfect in other peoples' eyes, but they didn't care. It was to them.


End file.
